


Good, Better, Best

by msermesth



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Ultimates
Genre: Anal Fingering, Dildo Blowjobs, Dildos, Happy Ending, Internalized Homophobia, Isn't most porn a 'happy ending'?, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shame, Ults Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 05:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12381720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msermesth/pseuds/msermesth
Summary: Steve has a little alone time.





	Good, Better, Best

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to Ults Day 2017. It is nothing but unrepentant porn, with a little bit of internalized homophobia and shame sprinkled on top.
> 
> Watch out for Steve having some very confused feelings about his own sexuality.

Steve tossed the box with its discrete packaging on his couch like it didn’t mean anything, but as soon as it landed he picked it up and carefully tore open the packaging. A tiny voice told him that it was because he might want to return the damn thing, even if he would have rather thrown it away then ever acknowledge he bought it in the first place.

The internet was… a complicated thing. Steve _hated_ how ubiquitous it was. But he could admit it had some benefits, at least as far as privacy was concerned. Years ago, Steve would never have been able to buy the nine-inch fire-red silicone dildo he was holding. It didn’t matter whether or not the thing would have existed or stores would have sold it. He would have never, under no circumstances, have stepped in one of those stores to buy it.

Now that he was holding the thing, Steve thought about the weight and size of it; the way it was both firm and pliable. He supposed it was anatomically correct enough, though the damn thing was intimidating. Steve was big, at least since the serum, but this was _big_. This was the kind of cock that belonged to a real man. A man who didn’t use the privacy of the internet to watch gay porn. Steve reminded himself this didn't have to mean anything.  He had chosen a red one because it seemed… different enough from the real thing, and that comforted him.

Without fanfare and more time to reconsider, Steve lifted his hips just enough to slip off his boxers and gave his dick a few rough tugs. He was already uncomfortably hard. If he really wanted to, he could just finish himself off right now and leave his curiosity for some other night. Maybe he’d just throw the damn thing away and not do it at al--

Steve stilled his hand and took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to be a coward. He may have bought the thing on a whim, but that didn’t mean he didn't wanted to try.

And, what did he know? Maybe he wouldn’t like it and he’d be able to throw it out, after all.

There were, of course, the logistics of the situation. In the video he had seen, _the video he had liked the most,_  the man had been on his stomach with his knees tucked in and his ass in the air. Steve imitated the position and popped open the cap of the lube to spread it between his fingers. It was viscous and cold and some of it drizzled onto the couch cushion. He would have to wash it later.

Even though he was the one guiding them, his slick fingers against his asshole still felt strange. He applied the lightest of pressure and felt as the rim fought and then accepted the intrusion. He tried that for a few moments, lightly pressing against the skin and just _feeling_. Never in his life had he realized how many nerve endings were right there, and at the moment all of them were on hyperalert, sending subtle messages of pleasure throughout his body that slowly built on themselves till he wanted more. He slipped the two fingers in further, staying extra aware of how his asshole stretched around his them and how the skin inside felt like hot velvet.

“Ohhh…” he moaned and then his whole body went still as he listened for any sounds. What if someone had heard? But no, he remembered. He lived alone and heard far more disturbing things coming from his neighbors all the time. There was no reason to be quiet. “Oh, yes,” he repeated and continued pushing his fingers in farther. He gave his ass a few quick thrusts, adjusting his angle till he found--

 _-that._ “Fuck,” Steve cursed. So, that was what he had read about. He tried it again and perfectly replicated the technique, yet somehow, he still was not expecting the way pleasure flared up and ran straight to the tip of his cock. He hadn’t been at all prepared for that feeling and for a while he tried to chase it, explore it, just capture it and every… single… time it made him curse. Whereas before he had been nervous and unsure, he didn’t take a second to think about adding a third finger. And when he did, well… that was good. That was _better_. Before he had just felt a pleasant fullness, now he felt stretched. Instead of full, _filled_.

He rocked back on his fingers, letting his abdominals do the hard work and just enjoyed the way his body adapted to the feeling. Why had it taken him so long to try something as simple as sticking a few fingers up his ass?

If he rolled his hips just right, and kept his hand perfectly still, he could, well… it was amazing. I was easy to imagine why some men did this to each other. Maybe there were techniques Steve couldn’t even figure out on his own. Maybe there were techniques someone would have to show him. With that thought the image came unbidden of Tony, smug and relaxed behind him and whispering sweet and filthy words into the small of Steve’s back. Tony was a man of refined tastes. He would know how to make Steve shudder with pleasure. He would have talents that Steve would beg for, but Tony would just smile and keep going at his own pace while Steve shivered at the feeling of Tony’s breath on his skin.

Not that Steve doubted Tony’s heterosexuality. The man had dated enough woman to put not only Steve, but his whole unit from the war, to shame. Steve tried to push the thought of Tony’s and his dexterous hands out of his mind. Tony wouldn’t do this to him, and Steve would never ask.

If questioned, Steve wouldn’t have been able to answer with how long he continued to finger himself. Everything else just fell away as he got lost in the sensation. His eyes found the dildo which lay forgotten next to his pillow. Three fingers had been better than two, but maybe it was time for an upgrade. He shifted his weight to one arm and picked the dildo up. He no longer felt like he couldn't possibly fit the thing. In fact, he felt emboldened to do something else and closed his lips around the tip. It was huge—he had to stretch and relax his mouth to comfortably fit the thing—but it felt good as it rested heavily on his tongue and it didn’t even taste of plastic. He tried to wrap his lips around his teeth before he realized that there wasn’t anyone on the other end of this blowjob—that there wasn’t anyone on the other end at all.

He let the thing fall from his mouth and decided it was time to move on to the main attraction. It didn’t take any extra time to cover the dildo with lube and adjust his grip so that he could reach behind himself and press the tip against his entrance. With a deep breath he pushed it in and let out an incoherent moan that would have embarrassed himself in any other situation.

He didn’t push much further—his body was slow in adjusting—but instead pulled the dildo out and sighed at the way the bulbous head caught on his rim. He kept shallowly fucking himself, but on each and every thrust the dildo slipped further and further. No longer bound to the limits of the angles of his hand’s anatomy, soon the dildo was further than his fingers had been and all he wanted was _more_. And to achieve that, all he had to do, in this position, was twist his wrist and rock his body back until he was hitting the hand clutched around the fake cock.

“Yes… yes… yes…” he was chanting, over and over again. Each movement of his hips caused his neglected cock to move against the couch cushion. The friction on his dick combined with the dildo deep in ass made him feel on fire. Steve honestly couldn’t explain how exactly they were connected, but both sensations made everything dissolve into a fog of pleasure.

This was so much better than he could have anticipated. Steve stretched his arm, trying to fuck himself even harder but the angle just wasn’t exactly what he needed. For that he would have needed some assistance. Steve tried to think of a generic man driving into him as deep and fast as he could. This man would know exactly how to hit his prostate, would fuck him straight into the couch cushions, would say nasty things, would call him _darling_. The man would kiss his shoulder blades and his facial hair would tickle on Steve’s back, and even though his breath would smell like vodka Steve would twist his neck around just to kiss him, just to feel him moan in his mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Steve was moaning incessantly as he tried to find the right angle or the right amount of pressure or the right _anything_ that would make him come. Tony would know. Tony would take care of him and make him feel like he had been split open and then would put him back together and do it over and over and over again till Steve was incoherent and stupid and the entire world had shrunk to the southern hemisphere of his body.

“Goddammit, yes.” Steve threw his body weight forward so that his face was smooshed into the cushions and he could awkwardly snake his free arm down his body and wrap his nondominant hand around his cock. The angle was off--it had to be for Steve to maintain this position--but there was a rhythm there and Steve found it.  “Nughff,” he moaned wetly into the cushion. He was a complete and total wreck, drool pooling beneath his mouth as he fucked himself. Any earlier technique had been forgotten. All he was doing, all he could do, was chase his orgasm and try not to think too hard about how much he wished there was someone else there to help.

But trying not to think about it just brought to mind those hands and that mouth and the way Tony _talked_ and he came, hard, wordlessly, and without control.

He rode the feeling as long as he could, but eventually Steve slipped the dildo out, dropped it on the floor, and slumped down, more exhausted now than he could remember being in a long time. His couch was soft and Steve let himself lay there for a few minutes to enjoy the moment of bliss.

“Steve!” someone shouted and Steve woke up with a start. He hadn’t even been aware he’d been asleep, but judging by the cold wetness on his face and the uncomfortable stickiness near his groin, it had been more than a few moments. Steve stood up, horror seeping through his veins as his tried to think fast. “STEVE.” He knew exactly who that voice belonged to. He had been imagining it in his ear just a little while ago, after all. “Are you there?”

“One moment!” Steve called and stepped into his boxers as quickly as possible. He didn’t look decent, per se, but it was possible, as long as Tony didn’t get any further than his hallway, he’d only think Steve had been sleeping.

“STEV--”

“Can you shut the fuck up? It’s two in the morning,” Steve said as he undid the locks and propped the door open just enough to see Tony’s face. Even with only that real estate, Tony was still able to see that he was mostly naked and gave him a look at Steve could feel in his toes. Why did Tony always have to make him feel that way? Like he was exposed. Like he was understood.

“Did I wake you up?” Tony asked with a shit-eating grin and without invitation, pushed the door open more and slipped inside. Steve was too surprised to stop him. “Were you having a party?”

“No,” Steve said and left it at that.

“Because Fury was worried.”

“Fury?” Steve asked but it was already slipping into place.

“Oh, don’t be stupid. You got to know he has some agents living here,” Tony replied cheerfully and Steve’s fear morphed into shame. He tried to shift his body to block Tony’s view, but it had been a fool's errand. It always was, with Tony. “Oooooo… this looks like my sort of party.”

Steve turned around. The dildo was lying on the floor exactly where he had discarded it, not very far from the semen stain on his couch. There wasn’t an alternative explanation for it, so Steve didn’t try. “What I do with my own time is none of your business, Stark.” He used the last name in an attempt to seem less familial. It mostly sounded petty.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m the last person who's going to argue with you about what you should be doing in your own time. Not when it looks like so much fun.” Tony's smile fell away as he turned towards him and gently placed his hand on Steve’s shoulder. It was a comforting, not erotic, gesture.  “But if you ever wanted to invite a friend…” His eyes softened and for a moment Steve like he was being treated as if he was fragile, “... I’d RSVP in advance.”

There was a pause in which Steve probably should have punched him, but he didn’t. Instead, against every instinct, he just softly answered, “ok.”

Tony smiled at that and it wasn’t just sex he was promising, Steve could see that much. “Ok.”

He leaned forward, or Tony leaned forward, or maybe they both did, because then they were just centimeters from each other. “Ok,” Steve repeated, and then he didn’t have to say anything at all.


End file.
